


Trouvaille

by YoungLion (CastielsShockBlanket)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Betrayal, Drama & Romance, Florist Lupin, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inappropriate Humor, Language of Flowers, Love at First Sight, Marauders, Marauders Friendship, Marauders' Era, Past Child Abuse, Prank Wars, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Public Display of Affection, Sarcasm, Tattoo Artist Sirius
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:03:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsShockBlanket/pseuds/YoungLion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black is the co-owner of the Black Dog Tattoo Parlor on the corner, alongside his best friend James Potter. Remus Lupin runs the Blue Moon Flower Shop across the street, with his friend Peter Pettigrew. The four of them were never meant to meet, and two of them were never meant to fall in love. But then, none of them had ever paid very much attention to what people said they were meant to do. Trouvaille is a story about friendships found in unlikely places, the testing of loyalty in the face of hardships, and a love that transcends time. </p><p>OR: The Flower Shop + Tattoo Parlor AU that nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouvaille

The first thing Remus noticed when he arrived to work that morning at the Blue Moon Flower Shop was how pleasant everything smelled. The rich but gentle aroma of dozens of fresh flowers, anything from velvety roses to heather lavender decorated the shelves, tables, and floor of the building. In fact, the entire shop was practically overflowing with beautiful plants, leaving narrow pathways around the area for people to walk down. One could just barely make out the counter at the back of the room, partially obscured from view by the myriads of flowers decorating the interior. The second thing he noticed was the soft crackle of a record playing old jazzy music in the background, the sound of which was so easy to listen to that the music itself felt like home. It was heaven on earth, this little shop on the corner. He smiled. 

"Pete?" he called as he stepped further inside, greeted by the welcoming tinkle of the bell, and the cool embrace of their air conditioning. Peter Pettigrew was the only other employee working the same hours as Remus on most days, so if the record player had already been turned on, it had to be him that did it. "Why are you early today?"

Peter, a slightly shorter, skinnier man with sandy blond hair and rat-like features, stepped into view from behind a shelf of foxglove, watering can in hand. His features broke out into a cheerful smile, which had no right being that cheerful this early in the morning, when he spotted Remus. "I'm not early, you're late," he answered matter-of-factly, then turning back to his task of attending the flowers. "Which, by the way, is more unusual than me being late."

With a slight chuckle, Remus checked his watch to discover he was, in fact, late by four minutes. Peter was right, that was unusual. "So I am," he remarked, starting towards his place behind the counter. "The bus must've been slow this morning."

The counter was one of the only clear surfaces in the entire shop. It was made of fairly old wood, but Remus kept it neatly polished, even if there were a few rings on the wood from misplaced drinks, and the surface was only disturbed by three or four things. There was the record player, which they kept because they thought it had a better ambiance than a radio would; the cash register; an organizational clipboard for writing down orders and such; and occasionally a book that Remus was reading. He'd finished his latest book and hadn't had time to pick up a new one yet, so instead he kept up a light banter with Peter while they waited for some customers to arrive. 

Working in a flower shop wasn't usually a very busy job, and most days it was just taking care of the flowers and gossiping with Peter. Some people thought it was boring, but Remus would have described it as quite peaceful. In fact, he rarely ever thought about his job as boring, he loved everything about it. He loved taking care of the flowers, and learning all of their meanings. He loved the peace and quiet of having a slow day. He loved the jokes and stories that he told with Peter. And he loved helping people find the perfect flowers for every occasion, in fact he prided himself on it. Even still, his day started at half past eight, and it wasn't until around eleven that anything of any importance happened.

Peter had gone off to take care of a delivery, as they were catering for a local bat mitzvah party that required several bouquets for table decorations. Without any customers there, Remus was left to his own devices for the most part. He was occupying himself with changing the record to an Ingrid Michaelson album, as he loved the music, but Peter never let him play it. He had just started the record up when he heard the pleasant chiming of the bell on their front door. He looked up to see who the customer was, and had to swallow a lump in his throat, as he was greeted with the sight of the most beautiful and yet most angry man he had ever seen in a flower shop.

The stranger looked slightly out of place, and more than slightly handsome, in his black leather jacket and beat up combat boots. He had dark black hair that was pulled back into a messy man-bun, and a 5 o'clock shadow decorated his chiseled features. There was a small bit of a tattoo peeking out from under his left sleeve, but Remus couldn't make out what it was. The man took off a pair of black sunglasses as he stepped inside, leaving them hanging from the neckline of his white v-neck. He then took a quick second to look around, a certain determination clear in his expression, before his gaze settled on Remus. Remus suddenly felt self-conscious and quickly pretended not to have noticed the man yet, acting as though he was absorbed in checking the clipboard on the counter. He only looked up when a wad of money was slammed, with unnecessary aggression, on the counter. They made eye contact, and Remus was faced with the most brilliant blue-gray eyes he had ever seen.

"How do I passive-aggressively say 'fuck you' in flower?" The stranger asked in a confident, rugged voice that didn't make it any easier for Remus to process the completely random task he had just been presented with.

Remus needed a couple of seconds to contemplate the rather unique request before breaking out into an amused smile. Clearly this was some sort of practical joke, no one ever came to a florist asking for a hate bouquet. His gaze flickered down to the cash on the counter, then back up to the man. No, there was really money there, this wasn't a practical joke. Remus prided himself on pranks, but he couldn't figure out whether or not this was real or a joke. "Are you serious?" he asked after a minute, raising an eyebrow slightly to convey his confusion.

The look of intent on the man's face broke away as he cracked a smile. It was crooked but charming, as it flashed a set of the whitest teeth Remus had ever seen, and Remus found it difficult to look away from. "Yeah, how'd you know?" he said.

Not quite understanding why this strange man was laughing as though he had just told some ridiculously witty joke, Remus frowned for a second. He opened his mouth to offer a reply, but found that he wasn't sure what he wanted to say, so he shut it again. His apparent confusion only seemed to amuse the man further.

"My name," the stranger said, evidently taking pity on Remus. "It's Sirius, y'know, like the star?"

"Oh," Remus replied, understanding the joke. He didn't think the joke itself was that funny, but he did laugh at the thought that this guy had probably told that joke a thousand times before, and still seemed to find humor in it. "Hi, Sirius. I'm Remus."

"So, about the flowers?"

"Right, gimme a sec to think," Remus said. 

There were a few moments of silence as he tried to come up with the proper flowers for the request. He had gotten some weird orders before, but this would be the first time anyone had ever come to the Blue Moon Flower Shop with such a request, and he wouldn't be shocked if no other flower shop had gotten it before either. But Remus Lupin was definitely the man to go to, as he loved his job more than any other local florist.

He nodded to himself, mind made up, then looked back to Sirius. The stranger was waiting somewhat eagerly for a response, a distinct mischievous glint in his eyes, and Remus couldn't help but wonder why this man had asked for a "fuck you" bouquet in the first place. What wrong could be so horrible as to merit a passive-aggressive bouquet of flowers? 

"Well, it depends on what you're really going for," Remus started, folding his arms across his chest as he spoke. "You've got geraniums to represent stupidity, foxglove for insincerity, meadowsweet for uselessness. Yellow carnations say, 'You've disappointed me.' Or orange lilies symbolize hatred. I'd say which of those you want would depend on why you nee-"

"That's perfect," Sirius cut him off gleefully. "All of those. Can you make a bouquet of those?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Remus said, nodding a little to himself as he contemplated what that would look like. "When would you need that by?"

"What's the soonest you can do it?"

"Probably tomorrow morning."

"Perfect."

"Can I ask who the bouquet is for?"

"You know the pharmacist down the block?"

"Not very well."

"Well, it's for that asshole."

Remus frowned once more, contemplating what this pharmacist could have done to deserve a bouquet of loathing. Obviously there was a story here, and it was likely a very good story at that, but Remus wasn't sure what the polite way to ask would be. He had only ever met the pharmacist in question once before, and in fact couldn't even remember what the man's name was. Though, looking back, he hadn't been at all pleasant to talk with. Remus asked, "You're sure he'll get what they mean?"

He was a little skeptical some pharmacist down the block would really understand what a bunch of flowers mean, after all. Everyone knew roses symbolized love, and there were a few other common ones, but most people weren't up to date on how to insult somebody with a bouquet. All the same, Sirius nodded confidently and said, "Yeah, he'll get it."

Remus shrugged, figuring that was too confident of a response to be wrong. He picked up his clipboard and started writing down the information for what flowers he needed for the bouquet. Then he turned his attention back to Sirius, who had started drumming on the counter along to the song playing in the background. Remus watched him drum for a couple of seconds, realized he was probably staring, and cleared his throat. "I'm gonna need your information so I can fill out the order?"

Sirius stopped drumming, looking up and giving a small nod. "Cool, like what?"

"Full name?"

"Sirius Black."

"Email address?"

Sirius must have responded, but all Remus heard was a small little cough and a hurried murmur. He recognized the symptoms immediately, after having worked here for so long-Sirius thought that his email address was something embarrassing. Probably one that he'd come up with in university and never bothered to get a new one. Customers did that all the time, and Remus honestly thought it was hilarious. Not that he would tell any of them that. He glanced up from the clipboard, raising an eyebrow. In his professional voice he said, "Didn't quite catch that?"

As it turned out, Sirius looked ridiculously attractive when he was flustered. He was biting his lip and staring at some point above Remus's head, and he went to run a hand through his hair, remembered it was tied back, and decided to scratch the back of his neck instead. It was fairly distracting, actually, and sort of rude to be that good looking. "It's, uh, siriuslyawesome@gmail.com," Sirius said quickly. He glanced back at Remus, and Remus had to act like he hadn't just been staring at the man's lips. Sirius gave another small cough and added into his hand, "Spelled s-i-r-i-u-s."

Remus suppressed a laugh as he scribbled down the email onto the form. "That's the best email we've had all day," he commented as he wrote, allowing some slight amusement into his voice. "Everyone else has really boring ones, like their last names or something."

Sirius rolled his eyes, but seemed to find the humor in it as well, as he chuckled a slightly. "Well, I've had the same one since uni, so..."

They had to go over a few more questions before the order form had been filled out, and then Remus wished that he had asked those questions slower, because he didn't really want to stop talking with Sirius yet. He was considering whether or not he could ask for the story of why this pharmacist deserved a Hate Bouquet, but he heard the bell at the door chime before he figure out how to word the question.

Both he and Sirius turned towards the doorway to see who it was, and they spotted Peter in the doorway. He was carrying a styrofoam tray with two steaming cups in it, which Remus could only presume to be tea from the cafe a few blocks away. Peter had mentioned having a crush on one of the waitresses working there, and ever since he had made a habit of getting tea during the day. "I come bearing caffeine," he announced, a little louder than necessary, as he walked into the shop. He paused for a split second when he spotted Sirius standing there, and Remus thought that he looked slightly intimidated by this stranger. The hesitation was gone in a second, anyway, and then he was handing Remus a cup of hot tea.

"Well I better get back to work," Sirius commented, and Remus couldn't tell if it was wishful thinking or if he sounded reluctant to go.

"Oh, where do you work?" Peter interjected conversationally, pushing himself up to sit on top of the counter. Remus shot him a disapproving look, unamused by his friend's seating choice, but the smaller man ignored him entirely.

"The Black Dog, just across the street," Sirius answered, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder with one hand. 

"Are you an artist?" Remus asked with curiosity.

Sirius nodded with a distinct pride. It was clear that the man loved his job down at the tattoo parlor, almost as much as Remus loved his job as a florist, and Remus felt a sudden affinity towards him. "So are you into other art forms, too, or just tattooing?" he asked, legitimately intrigued. He realized after he said it that it might have sounded rude, as tattoo artists get a lot of slack from people saying tattoos aren't real art, and he didn't mean it that way at all. Remus had never gotten a tattoo before, but he liked to look at them, and definitely appreciated the effort that would go into creating art like that.

The man surprised him, though, and didn't take the remark as rude at all. In fact, he seemed glad to discuss it. "Lately I've just been doing tattoo work, but I like to paint sometimes," he answered. He paused for a short second, then licked his lips and added, "I'd try learning other mediums, but, a good artist know where to draw the line." 

The straight face that Sirius was trying to keep lasted for about a second after saying that, and then he broke out into a shit-eating grin. Peter laughed rather enthusiastically at the joke, nearly spilling the cup of tea he was holding. Remus raised a hand and pointed towards the door. "Get out," he said flatly. "Get out of my shop, puns are not tolerated on the premises."

His response only seemed to amuse Sirius more, as he began to laugh as vigorously as Peter. When he finally stopped laughing, he straightened up and stuck his hands into his jacket pockets, looking back to Remus. "I thought that joke was punderful. I mean wonderful," Sirius said. Then, in the most unapologetic tone possible, he added, "I'm sorry."

"I will never forgive you," Remus replied, unable to suppress his smile any longer. 

"Yeah, that seems fair," Sirius said with false resign.

Remus just shook his head, taking a small sip of his tea, only to find that it was still too hot for him to drink. It burnt his tongue and he spluttered momentarily, quickly setting the cup back down on the counter, and thinking that must've been the least attractive thing he could've done just then. Peter laughed at his misfortune, and said, "Oh, by the way, the tea's still hot."

"You're fired," Remus said dryly. 

As this the tenth time that day that Remus had jokingly fired Peter, Peter simply shook his head and hopped rather ungracefully off of the counter. "I'm gonna go take care of the ivy, have fun with Michaelpungelo," he said, gesturing to Sirius as he spoke. The comment earned a small laugh from Sirius, which Peter seemed proud of as he stalked out of sight somewhere on the other side of the shop.

A second after that Sirius's phone made a loud beep, and Sirius took it out to check it. "Ooh, I forgot about that," he said in response to whatever the notification was. He shoved the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to Remus. "I gotta get going, but thanks for all your help."

Remus nodded, hesitantly picking his cup of tea back up and sniffing it, as if that would tell him how hot it was. "I'll contact you when the bouquet is ready," he said over the cup.

Sirius offered another one of his million-dollar smiles as he turned and started towards the door. He paused for a second with the door propped open by one of his boots, turning back to look at where Remus was standing at the counter. "I'll tea you later," he said with a certain smugness that only someone who has just told a really horrible joke can pull off. Then he winked, which almost made Remus want to forgive the terrible pun, and slipped out the door.

He waited until he was sure that Sirius was gone to laugh.

The rest of the day, Remus found his thoughts kept wandering back to Sirius Black and his Hate Bouquet. He decided he was glad to have those flowers as an excuse to see the man again, even if it would only be once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is inspired by [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7334218) post on tumblr.  
> thanks a bunch for reading! i appreciate any comments you wanna leave!


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